


Office Hours

by dovingbird



Series: Dove's Drabbles [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8159980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: “Adam,” Joel tries.
“Shh,” Adam replies. He remembered to lock the door this time, at least, but Joel’s eyes roll to the side like a startled horse toward the open curtains while Adam starts palming one of his big, meaty hands over Joel’s shirt. “I’m trying something, Joel.”
“That’s, I’m Mr. Heyman, excuse me,” Joel says as he slides out from between the desk and Adam’s immense, warm, soft body, Jesus Christ, he’s massive. Beautiful. Massively beautiful.
Adam laughs. He snags one of Joel’s belt loops without hesitation and Joel swears as he stumbles, as Adam tugs him back with no effort whatsoever. “You were Mr. Heyman when I was actually in your class,” Adam teases. He grabs Joel by the tie to pull him in for a kiss and Joel immediately knocks his hand away - he ironed that this morning - but threads his fingers in Adam’s hair to pull him in instead, savors the hot press of their mouths together.





	

Office hours have never been something that Joel looks forward to, necessarily. He, he can appreciate the push and pull of a classroom discussion, he can enjoy talking for fifty minutes straight with minimal interruption - is his class engaged or drooling their tuition away? Who knows? - but grading the shit he assigns? Almost jumping out of his seat every goddamn time that a, a student comes around the doorframe or knocks? No, yeah, that’s not, that’s not a good time, okay?  
  
He will say, though, there’s something, there’s, he can definitely appreciate it a little better now, and it might have something to do with the giant hulking puppy of a man who can barely fit through the door but still seems pretty content to try and shove himself under Joel’s desk sometimes, or slide into Joel’s chair with him, or have Joel’s rickety desk support all of Adam’s weight, like he’s not gonna leave grass and dirt everywhere from how he always is fucking, is just traipsing across the green between his classes, like he hasn’t already broken three paperweights.  
  
Joel liked those paperweights.  
  
“Adam,” Joel tries.  
  
“Shh,” Adam replies. He remembered to lock the door this time, at least, but Joel’s eyes roll to the side like a startled horse toward the open curtains while Adam starts palming one of his big, meaty hands over Joel’s shirt. “I’m trying something, Joel.”  
  
“That’s, I’m Mr. Heyman, excuse me,” Joel says as he slides out from between the desk and Adam’s immense, warm, soft body, Jesus Christ, he’s massive. Beautiful. Massively beautiful.  
  
Adam laughs. He snags one of Joel’s belt loops without hesitation and Joel swears as he stumbles, as Adam tugs him back with no effort whatsoever. “You were Mr. Heyman when I was actually in your class,” Adam teases. He grabs Joel by the tie to pull him in for a kiss and Joel immediately knocks his hand away - he ironed that this morning - but threads his fingers in Adam’s hair to pull him in instead, savors the hot press of their mouths together.  
  
Joel groans as he pulls away from Adam a little regretfully. “You’re, you’re fucking greasy,” he complains as he stomps over to the window. “Did you even, do you shower? Do you know what a shower is, Adam?”  
  
“Do you wanna show me?” Adam asks, and Joel can just hear the goddamn grin on his mouth when he talks, can hear how fucking proud of himself he is for even getting in this office, getting Joel’s attention in the first place. “Wanna get me all soapy and wet?”  
  
“Disgusting,” Joel says as he closes the curtains, and then Adam is there, pressing against Joel so insistently that Joel has to catch his hands on the windowsill so he doesn’t go careening out the glass. “Adam, don’t-”  
  
“Can I blow you, Joel?”  
  
Joel’s still not used to his name on Adam’s lips, fuck. Adam’s class ended less than a month ago. Joel comforts himself that he got all of Adam’s grades turned in before he finally gave into Adam’s weird brand of intoxicating behavior, but he can’t deny the thrill that shoots over his skin still when Adam touches him, palms Joel’s ass like he’s doing, like Adam barely kept himself restrained for a solid semester and now has to make up for every second of lost time. Joel gasps as Adam squeezes his ass, and he turns his head to look at the clock. “I’ve, I’ve got ten minutes, Adam, I-I can’t, I-”  
  
Adam hums a low moan, starts mouthing at the back of Joel’s neck, and Joel’s legs give out, fuck, they just, he squeezes around the base of the windowsill as he shivers. “I’ll be fast. Promise. It’ll be so good.”  
  
It will, God, Joel knows that. He turns his head and makes a low, wounded noise that draws Adam’s attention, makes Adam stare at Joel’s mouth for a second before he leans forward, kisses him feverishly again, and Joel can feel how hard Adam is against his ass, almost wishes he could, they, it-  
  
Joel twists around and fumbles for his belt before Adam can reach for it, can ruin it in his big clumsy hands, and Adam’s already crashing down to his knees. “You’re gonna, you’ll have arthritis, Adam,” Joel warns.  
  
“What?” Adam asks, wrinkling his brow, eyes focused on Joel’s crotch as Adam nearly rips Joel’s pants down.  
  
“Your knees, you, when you’re old, you’re gonna-”  
  
“You’re old, Joel,” Adam teases, biting his bottom lip for a moment as he tugs Joel’s boxers down, “and your knees are fine.”  
  
No, they are not, they are fucking not, because Adam is immediately sucking Joel down to the hilt, slicking every inch of his cock in seconds, and Joel’s legs shake visibly, embarrassingly, so that Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut just so he doesn’t start stammering in response. Adam hums around Joel’s cock like it’s a delicacy, like he can’t get enough of it, and Joel makes a rough noise, sinks his fingers into Adam’s disgusting, greasy, soft, silky hair. And Adam lets him. Adam doesn’t fight him.  
  
Adam already knows that he’s the one in control, why would he fight anything Joel tries to do?  
  
It’s over in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and Joel sinks back against the window, head fuzzy, face warm, cupping Adam’s cheeks as Adam wipes the back of his mouth like a fucking animal, like a slob, like-  
  
“You okay, Joel?” Adam asks through his grin.  
  
“I need a nap,” Joel says accusingly. “You, you did this, you’re so-”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.” Adam comes to his feet and kisses Joel so warmly that Joel makes an aborted little sigh against his mouth. Adam smiles at him, eyes sparkling, thumbing over Joel’s cheeks, before he starts stepping away. “All right, I’m going to class.”  
  
“That’s a first,” Joel says. He rubs his eyes. He needs, he, he has to put himself back together.  
  
“Hey Joel?” Adam asks as he unlocks the door.  
  
“Mm?” Joel asks as he drowsily starts buttoning his pants again.  
  
“I’m, uh, sorry you’re late for class.” And the door shuts.  
  
Motherfucker.


End file.
